Rediscovering Hope
by MyColorfulMoniker
Summary: One year after losing their memories, Emma and Henry finally started to settle into their new lives in New York with new memories. It isn't until a dashing stranger shows up at Emma's doorstep and kisses her that things quickly start to fall apart. They start off on their journey to get Emma's memories back and save their friends. My take on part two of this season.
1. Chapter 1: The Man

**Here's my first fan fic that I actually felt was good enough to post. It's rated T, for now. ;) It will most likely get smuttier as it progresses, who knows though? I hope you enjoy!**

Henry had just stepped onto the school bus when she noticed _him- _that strange man in the tacky black leather. It had only been just yesterday that he was at Emma's door, talking nonsense and, well, kissing her. He was leaning against a streetlamp about a block away, blatantly staring at her. He was stalking her, that was the only reasonable explanation. She should just call the cops after the stunt he pulled yesterday, but something told her not to. Something inside her ached at the sight of him. It was an ache that Emma had never experienced before. She quickly shook it off, remembered her outrage and marched toward him, determined to give him a piece of her mind.

"Ah, good morning, love. You look absolutely ravishing today. How'd you sleep?" he said with an infuriating smirk playing across his lips. It felt oddly familiar.

"You know, stalking is a crime. I could have you arrested for it," she retorted angrily.

"And who says I'm stalking you? I just happened to be walking by when I saw your lad getting on the large, yellow vessel. Is taking a stroll a crime?" There was that smirk again.

"Maybe not, but assault is. What the hell was that, anyway? You think you can just come up to a stranger's door, swagger in, and then kiss them!" She was really heating up now.

"Well, you can't blame a man for trying."

"Trying to do what exactly?"

"I'm trying to save you, Swan." He put his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Save me from what? I'm not Snow White! I don't need to be saved with 'true love's kiss', damn it!" She shrugged his hand off.

"Your family is in danger. I know you don't remember them, but they need you. I need you." The look in his eyes in that moment was of total desperation.

"I don't have a family. Every person in my life has left me, every one except my son. _He_ is my family and he most certainly is not in danger. The only possible 'danger' being posed on my family at the moment is _you. _So why don't you do me a favor and stay the hell away from me and my son or I won't hesitate on calling the cops next time." There was silence between them for a moment.

He slowly scanned her face, looking for a person who wasn't there. Then he broke the silence, "As you wish, my love."

It hit her like a ton of bricks. A wave of sadness washed over her, but she couldn't think of a reason as to why. She fought back the tears that were threatening to come out. _Why was she so torn up over this man who was a complete stranger? _She turned away and slowly started to make her way back to her apartment.

He was calling from behind her now, "No, wait! I won't ever give up on you, Swan! You are the savior and I will make you remember!"

The tears were falling now. She started to walk faster and faster. She replied without looking back, "Then I _will _file for a restraining order." She smiled a bit then. But by the time she got into the elevator and the doors had finally shut, she was a sobbing mess. Emma slowly slid down the wall onto the floor, brought her knees up to her chin, and buried her head into them. She was broken up over this stranger, over the man in the tacky leather. And she didn't even know why. Inside her, somewhere, there was a gaping hole. She had never felt so confused, flustered, and furious in her life. She never had felt so empty before. Her life had always made sense; it was her and her kid- that was all she needed. But now, seeing him, it started something. And now, nothing made sense.

The ding of the elevator brought her to her feet and she dragged herself into her apartment and poured herself another cup of coffee before sitting down at the kitchen table. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and sat in silence. Her mind was racing with so many questions. Questions that couldn't be answered until she saw the man again.

**Sorry, I know it's short! But I hope you enjoyed! There will be more to come as we move further into winter break and this seemly-forever-long hiatus. Stay tuned for future chapters!**


	2. Chapter 2: Look Who's Coming to Dinner

**Sorry it's been awhile, I've had Christmas things with family and such. (Also a really bad case of writer's block.) So here it is, an extra long chapter for you all as a present from me to you. I hope you like it. I also hope you catch the parallel written in here. ENJOY :)**

Emma trudged through the subway station, climbed the steps to the street, and walked the last block home. Work seemed all a blur to her; she couldn't seem to get her mind off the events of the past two days. Her surroundings were completely obscured. She walked her well-rehearsed way back home, failing to take notice of the now darkening sky and the sudden pick-up of the wind that whipped past her and caused the hairs on her arm to stand on end. There was too much going on in her head; too many thoughts roaming around in there for her to notice the chilling air. Her focus bounced from the mysterious man, to the kiss, to the strange things he had said to her, and back again. None of it had made any sense. How was she a savior of anything? How did he know who she was? Who was in danger? And if she really did forget these people for _whatever reason_, why did she forget?

She had hardly noticed when she had finally made it home. Key in hand, she clumsily fumbled to unlock the door. She smiled at her son's book-bag and shoes neatly placed up against the wall. Emma took a few steps into the apartment but immediately stopped herself. Something was off. There was laughter coming from the living room. She peered around the corner to see a terrifying sight; Henry was sword-fighting with none other than the man from earlier that day.

"Well, if you're Captain Hook, then I must be Peter Pan!" her son joked.

"Not too long ago, that was true," the man said under his breath, "Well Pan, do your worst."

"Come and get me, ya old codfish!" Henry thrust his sword at him.

"Oh, I'll get you, alright!" He chuckled as he chased the young boy around the room.

"Well, you'll have to catch me first!" Henry had the man cornered, slashing at him expertly.

"Well, you're not bad for a young lad. Ya know, you'd make an old mate of mine extremely proud." He smiled.

There was popcorn strewn all over the floor. The couch cushions had been pulled out and turned into a makeshift fort. _Peter Pan _was playing on the TV behind them. And there was the man, standing on Emma's couch, lunging at her son with a foam sword. Emma's jaw dropped in horror. She let her bag clatter to the floor and burst into the room.

"What the _hell _is going on in here?" she spat.

The boys' heads snapped around to look at her. "Swan! Nice to see you've finally returned home. Your boy and I were just playing 'pirates'. Oh, and might I say, this 'popped corn' you have is delicious." He beamed at her as he threw a piece into the air and caught it in his mouth.

Henry dropped his sword to the ground, "Hi mom. I didn't know you'd be back so early. Killian and I were just-"

"Henry, **what** have I said about letting strangers into the apartment?" She was steaming mad. But, not at her son. She was fed up with this 'Killian' character. She warned him about coming near her son and here he was, practically _babysitting_ him.

"But he said he was an old friend of yours." Henry cocked his head slightly, he honestly didn't know what he had done wrong.

Emma's face softened. She took a deep breath to calm herself, "Yeah, **something** like that. Henry, why don't you clean this mess up while I _catch-up _with my 'old friend', Killian." She nearly dragged him into her room, slamming the door behind them.

Killian stepped closer to Emma and stroked her arm. "Oh Swan, is it really appropriate to do this while your boy's in the next room?" There was that agitating smirk.

She slapped his arm, "For Christ's sake, what are you doing here? Do I have to lock you up to keep you away?" He raised a coy eyebrow at her. "You **know** what I mean."

He chuckled then, "You always _did _have a fetish for tying me up."

"Did you even bother listening to me when I told you to stay away?" She started to pace the room unsteadily.

"Emma, you know I can't do that; there's too much at stake. I have been searching for you for the entirety of a year. Now that I found you, I cannot simply 'stay away'." He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop pacing. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, "I have thought about you every moment for a year. I have longed to see your face, yearned for your kiss. Seeing you has made me feel whole again. Please don't deny me that." He released her arm gingerly.

_Well, that was surprising._ It was sweet, in a creepy, stalkerish sort of way. He really seemed to care for her.

"I know we got off to a bad start here, with the kissing and, well, everything. Here, let's start over. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Killian Jones," he said as he extended his hand to her.

She stood there, staring at his outstretched hand. It was rough, calloused. Like the hand of a sailor or worker. She was hesitant for a moment, still afraid of letting this man in after it all. Then, she gave in. "Emma Swan." She met his handshake. He gracefully raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She snickered, "Oh, so now you're gonna be a gentleman?"

"I'm _always_ a gentleman." He flashed her a sincere smile. Before releasing her hand, he noticed the large scar, the remnants of a wound he had tended to at the top of a certain beanstalk. He often thought of that day, his first adventure with the tough, stubborn woman who stood before him. It was the place that he started to realize his feeling for her.

"Would you, uh, like to stay for dinner?"As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted them.

"I would be honoured to."

"But, don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second," she warned.

"I would despair if you did."

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Emma watched Killian as he attempted to stab his chopsticks into his food, trying hard to stifle her laughter. "Jones, you need some help over there?"

"I'm perfectly capable of eating food. Even **with **these infernal sticks," he had a determined look on his face.

"You know, I could just get you a fork," she offered.

"I said I can handle it."

"Okay, then." She laughed.

Henry glanced up from his food. "So, Mr. Jones, where are you from?"

"Please, Henry, you can call me Killian."

"Ok, then. Killian, where are you from?" he asked again.

"Oh, you know, I'm from _around_." He avoided eye contact with the boy.

"Telling by your accent, I would guess that you're from England?" Emma chimed.

"Quite observant." he sneered sarcastically, "Yes, I am from England. But I left there a long time ago."

"Why'd you leave?" Henry stared at him intently.

"Well, there was nothing left there for me. I wished to explore new lands, so I left." He wished that the boy would stop asking so many questions. He changed the subject, "What is this called again?"

"It's orange chicken," Emma stated as she shoveled more noodles into her mouth.

"Now, are the chickens naturally orange or do they do something to them to produce this color?" Emma and Henry both stared at him in confusion. There was an air of discomfort.

_What planet was he from?_ Everything about him seemed completely foreign to Emma. It was almost as if he was from another time. The jacket, the way he spoke, the way he referred to cars as 'vessels', it all seemed very dated and strange. No one in the room knew how to answer his ridiculous question.

Henry was the first to break the silence, "So... how do you know my mom?"

There was that silence again. Emma and Killian exchanged glances.

"Uhh," she started, "we-"

"We're old friends. In fact, we knew each other in... school. We- we went steady for quite some time." He went back to his food.

Her eyes bore into his head. _What the hell was he trying to do? _She butted in, "Well, I wouldn't say that we 'went steady', more like-"

"Oh, don't be so bashful! You can be honest with your son, can't you?" He looked at her with his infamous smirk and raised eyebrow.

"I hate you," she said through gritted teeth.

'You know you love me', he mouthed. She kicked him under the table. Hard.

"We were just good friends," Emma finally said. To her surprise, Killian didn't say anything else. _Serves him right. Maybe I should've kicked him earlier._

Henry narrowed his eyes at the two of them, but then relaxed. "Okay then. Hey I got an idea! Killian, want to finish watching _Peter Pan_?" his eyes lit up.

"Well, I'm up for it as long as it's okay with your mother," Killian said as he looked to Emma with expectant eyes.

"Oh, can we, mom?" Henry pouted.

She sighed, "Okay, but only because it isn't a school night! As long as there's no more sword fighting, it's fine with me."

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"Is that who I think it is?" Killian asked with a look of pure, unadulterated horror on his face.

"Yep, that's Captain Hook, the most feared pirate captain in all the realms," Henry said with a low, over-dramatic tone.

He frowned, "You weren't kidding about the wax moustache and curls," Killian remarked under his breath. "He looks ridiculous. Shouldn't he be a dashing, young pirate and not a grumpy old man?"

"How have you never seen this before?" Emma questioned, "Everyone and their brother has seen the _Peter Pan _movie!"

"Well, I know the story quite well, just never seen the 'movie'." The word rolled off his tongue very unnaturally, as if he had never said it before.

She looked at him then, scanning his face for some sort of answer. He was one big riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in black leather inside an enigma that she just couldn't figure out. She always had a keen ability to read people, but when it came to Killian Jones, she kept coming up blank- which was more irritating than all the sexual innuendo he could come up with combined. But, he also was intriguing, alluring, suave. He kept Emma's brain so twisted in knots that she couldn't stay away. Without saying another word, she placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She took in his scent- an ocean breeze, with a slight hint of rum. He looked down at her, bewildered by her unexpected move. She was quick to knee him in the groin just the day before but now, she was pressed up against him, accepting his touch. _I think I may enjoy this new, softer Emma, _he thought. He was doing something right, he could feel it.

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"Goodnight, kid. I love you," Emma cooed as she carefully shut Henry's door. She walked back to the kitchen and cleared out the takeout boxes that were left on the table.

Killian walked up behind her and leaned against the counter. "That's quite a son you have there, Emma. Intelligent, strong, and a hell of a swordsman. He reminds me a lot of you."

"Thanks, I guess," she said. She turned on the faucet and started washing her hands.

"Of course, he's nowhere near as stubborn as you are. Which I guess is a plus." A smile was playing on his lips.

Emma shut off the water and grabbed a hand towel. She felt so uncomfortable that this near stranger knew so much about her. "I have so many questions, I don't even know where to start." She moved toward him. "Just who are you, Jones?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" he said, leaning in toward her, inching closer and closer.

"Well, perhaps I would," she breathed. There was less than an inch between them before she turned away. "I had nice time tonight. I hate to say it, but you're really good with my son." She made her way to the door and beckoned for him to follow. He frowned, but reluctantly joined her. "I'm sure I'll see you following me around sometime soon, then?"

"Actually, Swan, I was wondering if I could, maybe, spend the night here?" his big, sad eyes looking down at her.

"No, no, absolutely no!" she started, "Can't you just go home and leave me in peace for the next twelve hours?"

"I don't… have a home."

Those sad eyes hit her again, his face had fallen even further. It got to her. She let out a great sigh, "Alright, just for tonight. But, then you're gone!"

Emma tucked the sheets into the couch and placed a pillow at the arm. "Well, that should do it."

"Swan, thank you so much for showing me this kindness." He bowed to her graciously. The gesture seemed very old-world to her.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it. But, only tonight, okay?"

"Of course."

She started toward her bedroom door, "Emma, wait." She spun around and met him face-to-face. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Words will never fully express my gratitude." He smiled at her, but this time it was very grim, not his usual bright, gleaming grin. It seemed almost as if he was going to cry. He exhaled, "I've missed you terribly, Swan. Thank you for letting me in, in more ways than one." He tenderly kissed her on the forehead, holding his lips there for a few moments longer, taking in every second.

She didn't know what to do. She awkwardly backed up into her door and grabbed the doorknob. "Goodnight, Killian."

At the sound of his name, he shuddered a bit. She never had called him by that name before. There was a moment of silence between them. He finally spoke, "Goodnight, Emma."

She turned the knob and walked into her room, closing the door behind her. Crawling under the covers and curling up into a ball, she quickly fell off to sleep. This was the first night she dreamt of her mysterious man.

**Hope you liked it! Don't be afraid to write a review. I'm always looking for some constructive criticism. Stay tuned for next chapter!**


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